


Han-oo'Kah

by chapscher



Category: Sparks Nevada Marshal on Mars, The Thrilling Adventure Hour
Genre: Gen, Han-oo'Kah, Screenplay/Script Format, Sparks/OMC mention, canon suggested backstory, episode 52 - Christmas on Mars, light sparks/croach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapscher/pseuds/chapscher
Summary: Sparks had met Croach before Croach had fallen under onus to him: early in his time on Mars, during his first encounter with the indigenous Martian race. It was a time remembered by the Martians as Han-oo'Kah.





	1. Call Received

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a larger series re-write that got lost in a flood of classes and a new fandom. I'm unsure if I will ever finish writing Sparks Nevada and his Pals on Mars, but I at least wanted to get this out there. It was a shame to see the series fall so dormant and heterosexual (although I hope to be proven wrong on at least the latter front).

_Justice rides a rocket steed across the crimson plains of the fourth planet. In the future of tomorrow, America expands ever westward into the wildest west of all: outer space! Where there is one planet thought to be lightyears beyond the reach of law and order. But one man brings fear to robots and aliens, and hope to humans who yearn to make this frontier planet their home. He is Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars!_

_When last we left our hero, Sparks Nevada performed his first act as Marshal by breaking up a deadly feud between the Beverly Sisters and bringin’ them back together. But will his next act be one of division? Find out on tonight’s trilling adventure…_

**CALL RECEIVED**

 

MARSHAL’S STATION AI “CONSTANCE”: Marshal, you have an incoming transmission from the Mars-Earth Coalition’s North American headquarters.

SPARKS NEVADA: That’s Captain Scarlett! Finally. I’ve been waiting for a real call from him for a week now. Put him on, put him on.

CAPT. SCARLETT: This is Earth to Mars. Do you read me, Marshal Nevada?

SPARKS: You’re coming in fine, Captain.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Ah, hello, Marshal. Everything is in order, I trust. Is everything together that you needed? I got a confirmation on those deputybots arriving last week, I hope they haven’t given you any trouble.

SPARKS: No trouble at all. Not a very talkative bunch, but that’s alright with me.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Can they get around the settlement well enough on their own?

SPARKS: Yes, sir.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Good to hear because they will be on duty while you perform this escort mission.

SPARKS: Escort mission? Who am I escorting? I’ll probably need to take a few deputies with me if it’s for a stagecoach or anything like that. I’d reckon that whoever I’m escorting would be expecting the extra protection.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Don’t worry about the extra protection. Not for them and I’m sure you won’t need it either. You will be escorting the indigenous Martian tribe to their new territory to the north. The MEC needs the land they occupy if we want to expand the settlement and turn it into the investment that we quite frankly require.

SPARKS: What do you mean?

CAPT. SCARLETT: We need to improve Mars’ image, Marshal. Over here people favor Mars just as much as they favor the moon; so, very little. The moon is known for its bloodsport and Mars is known for Martian raids on livestock.

SPARKS: There haven’t been instances of that occurring in decades.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Well, that it happened at all is enough for most Earth humans. Frankly, Earth humans would all feel much safer if they had a nice several-hundred-mile wide buffer between the settlement and the Martian camp. I’m sending you the map of their new territory markers now.

SPARKS: I see.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Do I detect a note of judgment in your tone, Marshal Nevada?

SPARKS: Yeah, you do, reckon. Don’t you think that pushing these tribes into teeny tiny areas would only make them more aggressive? How do we know that they wouldn’t keep seeing our new land as theirs? Isn’t that what started the last war?

CAPT. SCARLETT: Martians don’t see the land as belonging to anyone. The only difference between then and now is that now  there is no chance that they could access the Martian amethysts that they did then. Locations of mines and possible deposits were taken into account while drawing up this map. There’s no way that they would be able to take up arms against the settlement without new amethyst weapon enhancers. They don’t do anything for our weapons, but do make mighty fine luxury items here.

SPARKS: Hmm.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Marshal Nevada, you seem unconvinced. I notice that your reports are yet to say that you have encountered an indigenous Martian. Have you?

SPARKS: N-no. Not yet.

CAPT. SCARLETT: They are a difficult species, Marshal. Powerful, each at least three times stronger than most human males. They have the most acute senses we have ever encountered and strategize as a single unit, successfully creating the hive mind that we have before only theorized about. Not to mention that they are nearly invincible, laser bullets do nothing to them, they can breathe underwater, and they are immune to most toxins that would turn a grown man inside out. Not to mention that they are stubborn and still hold an impressive amount of contempt for all humans.

SPARKS: Oh.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Their very presence poses a threat. They have refused USSA outreach and have met even our scientists with hostility. They do not value life, logic, or science like we do. They may look humanoid, but they are savages. Do you understand, Marshal Nevada?

SPARKS: Yes, sir.

CAPT. SCARLETT: That’s what I like to hear. You are due to rendezvous with the tribe of Barlok at 1400 along the southeast side of the Bulhar Ridge. You will see them to their first stop, 400 kilometers north. We predict that the entire tribe accounts for about two to four dozen of them, so it shouldn’t take longer than five hours. How’s your cybernetic horse?

SPARKS: I’m sure Mercury will be up for it.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Good to hear. I hope it goes well. As for any stragglers who decide to stay behind, I’ll let you deal with them as you will, Marshal.

SPARKS: Duly noted.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Report to me once you finish the relocation. To the future of the homeworlds.

SPARKS: To the future of the homeworlds.

CAPT. SCARLETT: Transmission out.

CONSTANCE: Would you like me to adjust your deputybots’ modes to Indefinite Patrol?

SPARKS: Except for Deputybot 3, set them to crisis response and have them wait here in case there’s any distress signal. Send the signal to me and I’ll give 3 the proper instructions over the comms.

CONSTANCE: Speaking of distress signals, Marshal, Felton is outside.

SPARKS: Ugh. Thanks, Constance. I guess I’ll head out now.

CONSTANCE: The marshal’s station doors are open.

SPARKS: Howdy, Felton. Ah, I see you’ve met Mercury.

FELTON: Howdy, Marshal. I was just standing out here petting the horsey.

SPARKS: Yeah… “horsey.” Well, don’t spoil him too much because we’re about to go on a long ride North.

FELTON: N-North? What’s north?

SPARKS: Oh, just something with the native Martians, nothing too serious. Deputybots will take care of things while I’m gone.

FELTON: Marjuns?! You’re gonna meet up with the Marjuns?

SPARKS: Martians, yeah. What’s wrong?

FELTON: Marshal, Marjuns is extremely dangerous. They’re violent! They don’t even speak English! Or any human language for that matter.

SPARKS: Well, they seem to know enough to communicate with the MEC, apparently. I ain’t too worried about that.

FELTON: Oh, yer- yer leavin’ already? Okay. Um. Just be careful, Marshal.

SPARKS: Sure, Felton, sure.

[SPARKS rides off with MERCURY]

 

 

SPARKS: Well, Mercury, just you and me. Say, we ain’t been out on the plains afore and used your rocket parts like this yet, did we? Sorry, boy. I bring my best rocket steed and then I don’t even take him out to fly around like I should. Well, I’m all settled in now, so we can patrol out here more often. How would you like that? Yeah, I bet you would.

[the space comms. sounds]

SPARKS: I- dangit I can’t see the screen when we’re going this fast. I’ll just answer it. [answers] Hello, this is Marshal Sparks Nevada.

EXECUTIVE OFFICER COMMANDER STACY KERNS-NEVADA: Noodle?

SPARKS: Oh, Mom! Hey.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: It sounds awfully windy there. Is there a dust storm? Mars does have a lot of dust storms.

SPARKS: No, I’m just riding out several hundred clicks to our northern border. Have some MEC business there.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Well, I’m glad I caught you. I’m sorry I haven’t formally congratulated you on your new job, Noodle. We were in the Southern sector discussing the new lizardmen treaty and… we’ll we’re all glad that we got that sorted out. But how have you been? How’s your work? Have you made any friends?

SPARKS: Marshalin’ doesn’t really offer me many opportunities to make friends. Although Constance is pleasant enough company, I’m glad to have her around.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Constance, hmm? Oh, did you find yourself a girl already?

SPARKS: No, no. That’s what I call the marshal station’s AI. Oh, and I’ve got Mercury here. He’s always been a good companion.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Well, I hope you find some friends soon, Noodle. It makes things just so much more pleasant.

SPARKS: Yeah. Oh! This is kinda interesting. I’m actually on my way to a relocation mission. Yeah, apparently the MEC thinks that this Martian tribe is too close to the settlement and diminished their lands. So I’m supposed to be their escort.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Oh, that’s so exciting, Noodle. Caiaphas! Did you hear that, dear? Sparks is going to meet the local Martian tribe.

CAPTAIN CAIAPHAS NEVADA: Tell him not to stick his pecker into any of ‘em.

SPARKS: Dad!

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Caiaphas!

CAPT. NEVADA: I mean it!

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Although crudely delivered, your father does have a point, dear.

SPARKS: Mom. Geez.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: He does, Noodle. Ever since the 2986 Reclassification of Extra-Terrestrial Beings Act, Martians and all other indigenous species of colonized planets have been strictly MEC negotiations-only. Contracts with them unless through the MEC are not legally binding and they cannot vote in settlement elections. And, yes, as your father mentioned, sexual relations with them is a class-A felony offence.

SPARKS: Okay. I know. I get it.

CAPT. NEVADA: No, I don’t think you do get it, boy.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Ciaphas, please.

CAPT. NEVADA: No, Mother, we both know that this is a real problem with the boy.

SPARKS: You know I can hear you, right? And there ain’t any problem with me. Just because you’re all about pure Earth bloodlines doesn’t mean that I am.

CAPT. NEVADA: Why do you want to be with other species? I never got that. Humans not good enough for you?

SPARKS: No, I’m just not a bigoted old xenophobe.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Stop it, you two.

CAPT. NEVADA: And you never see the big picture. There’s a reason why there are laws preventing you from sleeping with any sentient you want. Next you’ll be arguing for clones and androids. Species-wide negotiations take time. What about that Osinian? Remember that whole fiasco?

SPARKS: Dad, I was sixteen years old! Is your entire argument seriously “you did something reckless as a teenager therefore I can’t trust you ever”? That doesn’t make sense.

CAPT. NEVADA: It was just supposed to be a simple supply and refueling stop. I come back to the ship and find that several thousand credits of weaponry was stolen because you were not at your post.

SPARKS: I can’t believe that you’re still browbeating me about this after all this time.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Dear, I don’t think this is doing anyone any favors.

CAPT. NEVADA: [continuing] And I look not one block away from the ship and I find you in some back alleyway with that Osinian boy’s hand down the front of your pants!

SPARKS: Dad! Stop!

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Caiaphas, that’s enough!

CAPT. NEVADA: He wasn’t even human. You know, I thought you were finally on the right track when you were with Lieutenant Mercy Laredo at the USSA Academy. But no. You just had to throw everything away, didn’t you? Forget Mercy. Forget the USSA. Forget your training.

SPARKS: I don’t have to listen to this.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: Ciaphas, please. I’m sorry, Noodle. He’s in one of his moods.

SPARKS: Oh, no way.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: That treaty took a lot out of him. He’s tired. He means well, you know that.

SPARKS: Yeah, I can tell.

CAPT. NEVADA: Don’t take that tone with your mother. Did you forget how to talk to your superior officers?

SPARKS: [groans] sorry, Commander.

CAPT. NEVADA: That’s better.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: It’s alright, noodle. I’ll talk to you later.

SPARKS: Yeah, I’ll be sure to call later this week.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: So long, noodle.

CAPT. NEVADA: Remember what I told you about those Martians.

XO CDR. KERNS-NEVADA: He knows.

SPARKS: Yeah, I know.

CAPT. NEVADA: If you’re not careful, boy, we could have an interplanetary scandal on our hands.

SPARKS: Dad!

CAPT. NEVADA: You have to use some discretion for once in your dang life!

SPARKS: I’ll stick it in the first one I see! End transmission! [hangs up] I shouldn’t have said that. Oh, looks like we’re approaching the tribe. I’ll… I’ll deal with Dad later, Mercury. Don’t look at me like that. Okay, slow down. Shh. Approaching the tribe, don’t wanna come off as aggressive as the last marshal was. I… Do they all speak English? Aw man, I hope some do. Here comes one, here comes one.

BARLOK THE WISE: Holoba. I am Barlok the Wise and my senses indicate that you are Marshal Sparks Nevada of the humans. Is this correct?

SPARKS: Yeah, that’s me. Is this here most of your tribe? I know I’m here a little early but there’s no rush from me. I’m here to escort you and yours to your new land.

BARLOK THE WISE: It is our old land.

SPARKS: Oh. I reckoned that you Martian folk didn’t have a concept of ownership when it came to the land.

BARLOK THE WISE: That is erroneous. Who informed you of this fabrication?

SPARKS: Erm...

BARLOK THE WISE: It does, however, explain many of the interactions between the elders of our tribe and the representatives of the Mars-Earth Coalition. Your coalition also believes that that further co-habitation between our species would only exacerbate our current unease.

SPARKS: Yeah, as I understand it, a lot of people were affected by Marshal Daniels’ power trips.

BARLOK THE WISE: Not only people. Perhaps if we meet again we could discuss the recent history of your settlement, but now is not the time.

SPARKS: Anyways, is there anything specific that you need me to be escorting? There are plenty of robot highwaymen and mutant cattle rustlers in this sector of Mars. So should I be closest to you or any relics or... probably you, reckon?

BARLOK THE WISE: That is what my council is currently discussing. It will not take long for us to come to our conclusion. Most of the elders did not anticipate your arrival. I did, and am under a small onus to you for it. Although I wish we could have met under better circumstances, your presence here demonstrates to us that diplomacy is possible between our two races. We are under onus to you, SparksNevada.

[BARLOK THE WISE exits]

SPARKS: Oh, okay then. Yeah, I mean of course you’re gonna... yeah. Well, I guess it’s just you and me for a while yet, Mercury. They ain’t even got other horses for you to do your horse talkin’ with. All’ve they got are them hover-saddles. But I guess it’ll be a lot of just you and me out here, boy. Riding the dust of the galactic trail.

[A MARTIAN enters]

MARTIAN: Human marshal designated SparksNevada, are you conversing with your equine companion?

SPARKS: W-what? No. Well, yeah. But no.

MARTIAN: I see.

SPARKS: Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it – talkin’ to horses and the like. Reckon every bein’ in the universe has feelings and needs someone to talk to.

MARTIAN: That is a gross miscalculation. There are many sentient beings in this universe – on this planet – that are incapable of your human emotions and have no desire to possess them.

SPARKS: Yeah, maybe like, spiders or something are like that.

MARTIAN: My race, for example, does not experience your human emotions. Nor would we ever desire to.

SPARKS: Oh. Erm. Well. You still need someone to talk to, right?

MARTIAN: It is not a necessity. This current conversation, for example, is certainly not a necessity. I merely asked if you were having a conversation with a being that is incapable of speech. You then began making multiple incorrect statements about basic biology.

SPARKS: Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. My name’s Sparks Nevada, I’m the marshal of the human settlement. New marshal, that is.

MARTIAN: I may have misunderstood you. Why are we speaking of feet?

SPARKS: What? “Off on the wrong foot” you mean? It’s a saying. A figure of speech. You ain’t never heard that before?

MARTIAN: I know you are speaking of feet when we have only encountered each other less than a minute ago.

SPARKS: Well, it means, like “get off to a bad start” or somethin’. I ain’t entirely sure how feet play into it. It’s just a sayin’.

MARTIAN: Hmph. I see.

SPARKS: And I don’t believe that I caught your name, pal.

MARTIAN: Oh. Yes, your human metaphors. You are fortunate that I am well-versed in the works of human novelist, Rebecca Rose Rushmore or else very little of what you said would have made any sense to me. But since you have requested it, I am designated Croach the Tracker.

SPARKS: Ah. Tracker, huh? What is it you track?

CROACH: ...whatever requires tracking for my tribe, SparksNevada.

[BARLOK THE WISE enters]

SPARKS: No, I mean, like, what is it that you, like-

BARLOK THE WISE: Human designated SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Oh thank goodness that’s over.

BARLOK THE WISE: The other elders and I have decided that you should ride at the back of the caravan and guard the space-oil.

SPARKS: Got it. And let me know if you need anything else.

BARLOK THE WISE: Croach the Tracker, it would be an onus if you were to migrate by my side.

CROACH: The onus s all mine, Barlok the Wise.

SPARKS: Oh, you know each other?

BARLOK THE WISE: Yes. Croach the Tracker is my descendent. I take it you have been acquainted?

SPARKS: Briefly, yes.

BARLOK THE WISE: So quickly you have taken up conversation, something that in my youth I would have never thought possible. And would it be too imprudent to believe that the new relations between our species may change in the course of your generation?

CROACH: It is perhaps imprudent, Barlok the Wise.

SPARKS: Well...

CROACH: Well.

SPARKS: Well, I mean...

CROACH: It is imprudent, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Okay, but I don’t think so though.

CROACH: You should, because it is imprudent.

SPARKS: I’m going to go to the space oil now.

CROACH: Please do.

SPARKS: I’ll let you know if anything happens, Barlok the Wise. Croach. It’s been a... it’s been something meetin’ you.

CROACH: Croach.

SPARKS: What?

CROACH: My designation is pronounced Croach.

SPARKS: I said “Croach.”

CROACH: You pronounced it incorrectly, please try again.

SPARKS: Croach.

CROACH: No.

SPARKS: Croach?

CROACH: No.

SPARKS: I am sayin’ Croach!

CROACH: I promise you, you are not. Perhaps you are having difficulty speaking properly with your singular human tongue.

SPARKS: I can do it! I am doin’ it!

CROACH: You are not!

BARLOK THE WISE: I believe that it is time to begin the migration.

SPARKS: Good.

BARLOK THE WISE: We are under onus to you for your service, human designated Sparks Nevada.

CROACH: Let us not speak of onuses too quickly, Barlok the Wise.

SPARKS: Right. I’ll be headin’ to the back now. And... erm... Croach?

CROACH: Incorrect.

SPARKS: It’s good to meet you. Perhaps next time we meet up my foot won’t be in my mouth as much.

BARLOK THE WISE: Bagropa.

CROACH: [offended] I beg your pardon?

SPARKS: I... I should go.

BARLOK THE WISE: Any onus I am under to you has just been relived, Marshal SparksNevada

CROACH: Onus.

SPARKS: What?

BARLOK THE WISE: We must embark presently. Please take your position beside the space-oil at the back of the caravan, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Alright, I’ll talk to you again once we get to the 4000 kilometer marker

CROACH: I believe that you can wait longer than that before you speak again.

SPARKS: Okay, but I’m gonna check in with him anyways.

CROACH: The space-oil needs your attention.

SPARKS: Yeah, I was just goin’ to it.

CROACH: Yes, you should do that.

SPARKS: I am doin’ that.

CROACH: Are you?

SPARKS: I am, watch me. There I go.

CROACH: You are not gone yet.

NARRATOR: Is this the end of Sparks Nevada…….’s string of marshaling successes? Will he be able to serve both the settlers and the first sentients of the world he has pledged to protect?

SPARKS: I am going right now, Croach.

CROACH: But you are not gone

SPARKS: And I’m going to protect your space-oil.

NARRATOR: Find out next week on the next adventure of Sparks Nevada: Marshal on Mars!

 


	2. Highway Robots

_Justice rides a rocket steed across the crimson plains of the fourth planet. In the future of tomorrow, America expands ever westward into the wildest west of all: outer space! Where there is one planet thought to be lightyears beyond the reach of law and order. But one man brings fear to robots and aliens, and hope to humans who yearn to make this frontier planet their home. He is Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars!_

_When last we left our hero, Sparks Nevada was tasked with relocating the native Martian tribe to their new lands to the north. Will he fulfill his duties to both the Mars-Earth Coalition and the native Martians? Or is the struggle to balance the two races more difficult than he thought? Find out in tonight’s thrilling adventure…_

**HIGHWAY ROBOTS**

 

SPARKS NEVADA: Log date 311003.1. I… erm… marshalin’ hasn’t really been what I expected. I mean, I don’t know what I expected. Yeah, I do. I do know. I thought that I’d do something heroic. Like I’d stop a bank robbery and save a kitten from a robot and then I’d turn a problem youth’s life around with some thoughtful Earth advice. Like, that doesn’t sound like too much to ask for. I’m not asking for something where people would build a statue in my honor, but not… this. Like, for example, I try to do something good and I get yelled at. That has been my entire marshaling experience up to this point: people yelling at me. People and Martians yelling at me. I mean, I know that I haven’t been marshal for a super-long time yet, but that’s all it’s been. Say something that should be helpful. Get yelled at. Say hello. Get yelled at. Try to be diplomatic. Get yelled at. I preferred it when it was just me alone in the station en route to Mars.

Ugh. I feel like a little kid again. But only in, like, the worst-possible way.

And my dad called earlier, as long as I’m just telling you stuff, log. Well, he didn’t call; not really. Mom called and then dad yelled at me. He’s been yelling at me ever since he decided to step in and mess with my final exam back at USSA Academy. Well, actually, he’s been yelling at me long before that, but especially since USSA Academy.

I gotta call Mom back later.

I am three hours into escorting Barlok the Wise’s tribe to their first checkpoint beyond the settlement’s northern borders. It’s supposed to be a quick little trip, but this tribe is bigger than anyone in the MEC thought. Like, I thought it would be a few dozen. No. It’s a few thousand, and very few can travel at full-speed on their hoversaddles. So our travel-time got bumped up from four hours to what’s lookin’ like twelve. And here I am… at the very very back. I’m guardin’ their space-oil with Verth the Observer and Kintal the Silent. How you guys doin’? [pause] Fine, probably. They don’t care. Not much for talkin’ I guess. Which is why I’m talking to you again, log. Ain’t nobody talkin’ back here. Ain’t nobody talkin’ up front neither.

Up front there’s Barlok the Wise and the rest of the elders, I guess. And there’s Croach the Tracker. He, uh, he doesn’t like… anyone, I guess. Like, whenever I talked to him he just got super offended or whatever. And, like, he really doesn’t like metaphors or something. Which would be pretty weird considering he told me that he knows about humans through that one cheap romance author you always see at rest-stops. I don’t know. But he really really thinks that I’m going to do awful back here. So I’m going to prove him wrong. I’m going to be the absolute best at guarding space-oil. I’m going to do so well that his grandpa Barlok will wanna give me one of those titles. Like Sparks the Space-Oil Guarder. No! Sparks the Handsome. Can’t stay irrationally upset at Sparks the Handsome. Or maybe Sparks the Awesome.

VERTH: Sus tu’iy gw-le rogler? (Did you hear that?)

SPARKS: Hey, nice to hear from you, Verth. Oh, my horse Mercury and me were just over here talkin’. Shootin’ the breeze. So, do you think I’m more of a Sparks the Handsome or Sparks the Awesome.

VERTH: Lkl’vlarwe gynlb, u bw’wd t-iye aukwbxe. (Alabaster human, I need your silence)

SPARKS: Sparks the Captivating Conversationalist? I like that one. You might be onto something there ol’ Verth.

VERTH: Shh!

SPARKS: Did… did you just shush me? Hey, you were the one talking. I was just being polite.

VERTH: Q’gt si tu’iy jw’wo ewaoib-subf ri nw ud tu’iy si bir j’biw qglr u ln altubf?! (why do you keep responding to me if you do not know what I am saying?)

SPARKS: Now, why are _you_ yelling at me?!

VERTH: Hyar kwl-cw rgw Lkl’vlarwe gynlb v’wgubs. Gw quk-k dufyew ur iyr. (Just leave the alabaster human behind. He will figure it out.)

SPARKS: Hey! Where’re you goin’?

VERTH: Fi, Kintal! Rljw ainw id t-iye iuk! (Go, Kintal! Take some of your oil!)

SPARKS: Now the other one’s gone too. Hey! Get back here! You can’t just take a little bit of oil and speed off like that! You’re just ditching me now? I mean, c’mon. Fine. I don’t need you. I can do this just fine on my own. I’ll just pick up your oil drum tethers you left and attach it to Mercury here. Now reckon we’ll just power up your auxiliary rocket parts and- no. No you don’t have enough power to run the auxiliary rockets for the rest of the journey and to return to the marshal’s station as soon as we reach the checkpoint. And I ain’t about to steal their space-oil for it.

Well, let’s try movin’ all the oil tanks, Mercury. [pause] Yeah, that ain’t goin’ anywhere is it? And we’re already pretty far behind. Where did they run off to? I don’t see them. Well, look. Sooner or later they’re going to have to realize that their space oil got left along the way.

[pause] So now what? I feel like I can’t just sit here until they come back. But I can’t go up to Barlok the Wise and tell him I need help. Iffin’ I did that then I wouldn’t be guarding the space oil anymore. And that Croach would know that I failed. I can’t call for help from my deputy bots because we need them to be patrolling the town while I’m out here. I think I’m out of range for that anyways. How about this, Mercury, we take these oil tanks and we take them one at a time to the gap between those two plateaus yonder. It’ll be out of the way and will give me a place to guard them from in case anyone comes by.

That’s right, there we go. This’ll work out fine. Now we disconnect this first one and go back for the second. [Pause] And the third. [pause] Good boy, Mercury, very good. Now let me get up on this ridge. There. Now, I can stay here and guard the oil while you deliver this letter to Barlok the Wise. Lemme just write it up first. [writing] Oil guards left… Cannot lift oil tanks without hoversaddles… or more power for my horse… please send assistance to back of caravan. There, that looks good. Croach’ll be able to read it at least. I’ll stick this in yer saddlebag and there you go. I’ll send you a signal iffin’ I need you to come back. Off to the front.

I still can’t believe they just took off. Just like that. Out of nowhere. Out of-

[A crash interrupts him]

SPARKS: What was that? Sounds big. Iffin’ it’s some highway robber, it’s a big one. Like, really big. I better get under cover and get my laser pistol ready.

[Two identical giant robots emerge]

FIRST ROBOT: Get out here, Bolt. What are you so afraid of?

BOLT: I just don’t think that this is a good idea, Wrench.

WRENCH: You say that about everything. This was your idea, Bolt. And it’s a great idea. Like, once you do it, you will know just how much of a good idea this is.

BOLT: You say that about everything.

WRENCH: And I’m always right.

BOLT: Fine. Where’s Ratchet?

WRENCH: Making sure the coast is clear. Does anything get past that hard metal plating with you?

BOLT: Hey, maybe you’re just really bad at communicating.

[Another identical giant robot emerges]

BOLT: They’re not coming back, are they?

RATCHET: Nah, they’re all gone. This should be easy. By the way, Bolt, this was a really good idea.

BOLT: I have had better ideas.

WRENCH: Yeah, but none that can make us as much money. It can’t be too hard to sell this high a quality of Martian oil.

BOLT: Oh! Look! These oil tanks are so light! This should be easy.

SPARKS: Hold it right there! You ain’t about to take another step closer to them oil tanks.

RATCHET: Who are you?

SPARKS: I’m Marshal Sparks Nevada and I’m defendin’ this here oil supply for the tribe of Barlok the Wise.

BOLT: Um…

WRENCH: “Defending”? You? A little human with a littler pistol? I’m a one-thousand pound robot who is about to be able to buy anything she wants because she will be rolling in oil-money.

BOLT: Yeah! Me too!

RATCHET: You’re outnumbered, Marshal.

SPARKS: I may be outnumbered, but robots your size ain’t about to outdraw me. Now put your hands up and step away from the oil.

RATCHET: I say… nope.

BOLT: Ha ha.

WRENCH: Ha ha.

SPARKS: Alright, you asked for it. Iffin’ I can’t stop ya, then reckon I’ll just have to blast your hands right off.

RATCHET: Uhh.

WRENCH: Do it then!

BOLT: Wait.

WRENCH: You don’t have the guts!

SPARKS: Alright, then I will!

WRENCH: So do it!

SPARKS: I will.

WRENCH: I ain’t seein’ you doin’ it.

SPARKS: Well, I will.

WRENCH: Do it, we’re all waiting.

SPARKS: Are you still planning on stealing that space oil?

BOLT: Yeah.

WRENCH: Yeah! And ain't no Marser marshal gonna stop us.

SPARKS: Well, I ain’t about to let you do that.

RATCHET: Yeah, you said that.

SPARKS: Because even though I’m the marshal on Mars, I’m… from Earth.

[gun cocking sounds]

[lackluster laser sound]

SPARKS: Um… wait.

RATCHET: Ha! What was that, Marshal?

SPARKS: Uhh…

WRENCH: What _was_ that? Did you forgot to charge your laser pistol, Marshal?

SPARKS: I may have.

WRENCH: [laughs] Earthens are dumb.

SPARKS: Now hang on.

RATCHET: H-hey, Marshal? You want one of these here oil tanks?

SPARKS: Don’t just lift it up like that!

RATCHET: You want it? Jump up and get it.

SPARKS: I can’t. They’re, like, two-thousand pounds.

WRENCH: What’s the matter? You can’t lift it?

SPARKS: Of course I can’t lift them, they’re huge. They’re, over three times the size of my horse.

BOLT: He can’t even pick it up!

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: S-stop it! How could you possibly expect me to lift something like that?

RATCHET: Don’t seem that heavy to me. Hey, Wrench, grab that one.

SPARKS: You know, I’m calling my horse back over here and placing you all under arrest for trying to seal the Martian’s oil tanks.

BOLT: Arrest?

WRENCH: He ain’t arresting any of us. Look at the tiny little guy, he ain’t got handcuffs big enough.

SPARKS: I don’t need handcuffs to arrest you. I got all I need right here. Robot fists.

[robot fists activation sound]

BOLT: What are those?

SPARKS: R-robot fists. I literally just said what they were called, were you not paying attent-

WRENCH: They look old!

BOLT: Yeah, super-old!

RATCHET: I bet they’re older than I am!

SPARKS: They ain’t that old. I got them when I graduated from academy and that was only… ten years… ago.

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: Stop that!

BOLT: They are super-old.

RATCHET: I bet they can’t even do anything.

SPARKS: They can totally do things. Lots of things.

BOLT: Like malfunction?

RATCHET: Heh heh. Yeah. Bolt knows her equipment. If she says it’s bad, it’s bad.

BOLT: But hey, I’ll ask you if I want someone to take other old pieces of obsolete tech off my hands.

WRENCH: Get it? Hands!

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: Yeah, I get it. Wasn’t that funny.

BOLT: I didn’t even mean to do that.

RATCHET: Really, it was unintentional?

BOLT: PUN-intentional! Yes!

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: Stop that!

WRENCH: I knew you’d get into this, Bolt.

BOLT: Yeah! This is fun!

SPARKS: Alright, alright, that’s enough of that. I reckon you’ve still got your hands on those oil tanks, so you’re still under arrest. And I’m takin’ all of you in.

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: Stop it! That wasn’t even funny, like, at all.

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: Stop!

RATCHET: Awwww. Look at him.

WRENCH: It looks like he’s about to cry.

SPARKS: No I’m not.

WRENCH: Yes he is, look at him!

SPARKS: I’m not!

WRENCH: You gonna cry, Marshal?

BOLT: Aww, poor baby earthen.

SPARKS: I ain’t cryin?

WRENCH: You sure there, Marshal? Your cheeks are gettin’ kinda red.

SPARKS: They ain’t!

RATCHET: And your eyes are gettin’ kinda watery.

SPARKS: [voice cracking] No they aren’t!

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

BOLT: Awww.

RATCHET: Aww, Marshal. Did we huwrt your feewings?

SPARKS: You didn’t huwrt my feewings, you’re under arre-

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: Stop laughing! You’re all under arrest and I’m gonna arrest you right now.

BOLT: After you find a tissue, right?

SPARKS: I’ve had a rough week!

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: I’m under a lot of pressure!

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: That’s it, I’m gonna fight all of you. Right here, right now. So put down those tanks and line up. I can fight all of you at once.

RATCHET: We can go one at a time if it’s hard to see through all those tears.

SPARKS: No, I mean all of you at once. Now, you get on that side of the canyon and I’ll stay on this side.

BOLT: Are you going to shoot us with that broken laser pistol?

BOLT, WRENCH, and RATCHET: [laugh]

SPARKS: No! I’m gonna punch all of you with my robot fists.

BOLT: N-no you aren’t.

WRENCH: Yeah, he won’t.

SPARKS: I mean it.

BOLT: N-no you don't.

SPARKS: C’mon, let’s do this. You’re already lined up. So start fighting on three.

BOLT: Yeah, uh….

RATCHET: Aren’t we?

WRENCH: Nah, let’s get out of here. I think we’ve done enough damage.

RATCHET: [laughs] yeah, reckon we did.

SPARKS: I ain’t cryin!

[loud crash]

SPARKS: Oops.

RATCHET: Did you just punch that canyon wall with those there robot fists, Marshal?

WRENCH: And are those rocks up top there startin’ to wobble?

SPARKS: Uhh

[earthquake sound]

BOLT: Hey! Where’s he runnin’ off to?

RATCHET: Get back here and fight!

BOLT: Uhh.

[louder, more prolonged crash]

SPARKS: Oh no.

WRENCH: [muffled] Hey! Get us out from under these rocks!

RATCHET: [muffled] I can’t move! The rocks got in my gears!

BOLT: [muffled] I knew we shouldn’t have done this!

[another crash]

SPARKS: And now they’re all in a pit under the pass and covered in rocks. There must have been some sort of cavern under these plateaus.

RATCHET: [more muffled] You’ll regret that, Marshal!

[horse whinny]

SPARKS: Oh! Mercury! We gotta get out of here and tell Barlok the Wise what happened to the oil. It’ll take more than a couple Martians to help me dig those oil tanks back out of the ground. Let’s go.

[galloping sound]

SPARKS: Faster. Faster. And I don’t see any sign of those Martians who were supposed to be helpin’ me. Hey, you’re mighty quick there, Mercury. We’ll be up to the front of the caravan in no time. I wonder iffin’ he’s in one of these wagons. No, wait! I see him. And there’s… oh no.

BARLOK THE WISE: Sparks Nevada? What are you doing up here?

CROACH: Return to the space-oil, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: That’s just the problem, Barlok the Wise, the oil’s trapped under several thousand pounds of rocks.

BARLOK THE WISE: What?

CROACH: Onus.

BARLOK THE WISE: How was the space oil trapped?

SPARKS: There were three robot outlaws who-

CROACH: Are you crying, SparksNevada?

SPARKS: W-what?

BARLOK THE WISE: Please cease weeping, Sparks Nevada, and tell us what has happened.

SPARKS: I ain’t cryin’.

CROACH: Your cheeks are red and your eyes are noticeably swollen.

SPARKS: Okay, but I ain’t cryin’, Croach.

CROACH: And you seem to be short of breath. SparksNevada, are you afflicted by the human malady designated asthma?

BARLOK THE WISE: Oh, is that similar to the ailment a’s-them-a, contracted by adolescents who do not partake in the sacred rights of Nah Notek?

CROACH: Correct. SparksNevada, you should have consulted your human physician before embarking on this migration.

SPARKS: I ain’t got asthma.

BARLOK THE WISE: There is no shame in it.

CROACH: There is some shame in it.

BARLOK THE WISE: Why do you weep, human?

SPARKS: I was guarding the space oil and three giant robots stole it from me.

BARLOCK THE WISE: They must have been extremely dangerous metal enemies. [Pause. He calls out] Mern the Martyr, bring forward the remaining space oil.

[nyoom, he enters]

MERN THE MARTYR: [heavy sigh] It was nothing. [heavy sigh]

[nyoom, he exits]

BARLOK THE WISE: Sheb the Comptroller, please assess whether there is enough space oil to last us the duration of the migration.

SHEB THE COMPTROLLER: It looks as if we do not have enough.

BARLOK THE WISE: Wait, what?

SHEB THE COMPTROLLER: It looks as if we have exactly one eighth of the space oil necessary to power our hover-saddles. It would take a miracle for this oil to last us as long as we need. A miracle that would make this oil last for eight units of time and distance.

CROACH: It is unfortunate that our people do not believe in miracles. And it appears as if diplomacy is no longer the preferred course of action for the humans.

SPARKS: That ain’t true!

CROACH: From what I have seen, from what my tribe has seen, SparksNevada, it is.

SPARKS: This is all my fault. I should have remembered to charge my laser pistols. I should have gotten my own oil when I saw how many of y’all were migratin’. Iffin’ I did that then I would have been able to carry the oil or at least keep the robots away. Then they wouldn’t be buried in a cave in a canyon out in the desert.

BARLOK THE WISE: We shall be able to complete the migration, but we shall need to change course in order to harvest more oil for our journey.

SPARKS: No! Erm… I mean, no. I’ll be able to get that space oil back. I’ll just need someone to help me carry it out of the pit. How about Verth and Kintal?

BARLOK THE WISE: No, I think it would be better if Croach the Tracker would accompany you on this mission.

CROACH: What? Barlok the Wise, I do not desire to question you, but the space oil does not require tracking. Perhaps Goltin the Strong would be more suitable for this task.

BARLOK THE WISE: But I have chosen you, Croach the Tracker. Accompany Sparks Nevada and aid him in retrieving the space oil.

CROACH: I shall if it is your desire. However, I fear that I do not entirely understand why. If you could tell me perhaps I could be of greater assistance to him.

BARLOK THE WISE: You are… uniquely qualified. Now go. Allow Sparks Nevada to lead you to the space oil.

CROACH: If we require another tribesman for the job then-

BARLOK THE WISE: You shall work together so that more hands are not required. I have faith in you.

CROACH: I do not have faith in him.

BARLOK THE WISE: The tribe is beginning to wonder why we have slowed, Croach the Tracker.

CROACH: Yes, Barlok the Wise. I shall return with the space oil.

BARLOK THE WISE: And we shall be under a great onus to both of you. Now go.

[BARLOK THE WISE and SHEB THE COMPTROLLER exit]

SPARKS: Looks like it’s just you and me. That’s cool.

CROACH: Please do not attempt to engage in what is designated “small talk” with me, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: I was just sayin’ hello.

CROACH: And now you have said it.

SPARKS: You’re going to make this really enjoyable, aren’t you?

CROACH: I am not Beltid the Conversationalist. Nor am I Quintiu the Entertainer.

SPARKS: Yeah, this is gonna be really successful. I can tell.

NARRATOR: Is this the end of Sparks Nevada? Will he and his new Martian companion find the space oil only to meet with certain doom at the hands of giant robot outlaws?

SPARKS: Croach ain’t no companion, he’s more of a… uh…

CROACH: Reluctant volunteer.

SPARKS: Hey now.

NARRATOR: Find out next week on the next adventure of Sparks Nevada: Marshal on Mars!


	3. Han-oo'Kah

_Justice rides a rocket steed across the crimson plains of the fourth planet. In the future of tomorrow, America expands ever westward into the wildest west of all: outer space! Where there is one planet thought to be lightyears beyond the reach of law and order. But one man brings fear to robots and aliens, and hope to humans who yearn to make this frontier planet their home. He is Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars!_

_When last we left our hero, Sparks Nevada lost the space oil he was set to guard to a band of giant robot outlaws, last seeing them and the oil as they fell into a rocky tomb. Barlok the Wise assigned Croach the Tracker to aid Sparks in retrieving the lost Martian property. Will human and Martian work together to fight off giant robot foes? Find out in tonight’s thrilling adventure…_

**HAN-OO’KAH**

 

 

SPARKS NEVADA: So are you this warm and welcoming towards everyone or am I just getting some kinda special treatment? [pause] I already played this game with the other Martians I was traveling with, Croach. You can’t stay quiet for the entire time. [pause] Croach? [pause] Look, at some point I’m going to have to tell you where I saw the oil fall and you’re going to have to say something in response so we can get it out of there. Don’t act like you can keep this up forever.

CROACH THE TRACKER: I have no intention of keeping this up “forever,” SparksNevada. But we are not exhuming the space oil presently. Presently, we are merely traveling across the desert, which is something that I feel we are perfectly capable of doing in silence.

[Pause]

SPARKS: So Barlok the Wise is your grandfather, huh? That must be interesting.

CROACH: I am uncertain in what way you find simple familial relations to be “interesting.”

SPARKS: I mean since he seems to be in charge of yer tribe. That must, erm, that must be a little bit interesting.

CROACH: Barlok the Wise is not the leader of my tribe. He is a member of the council of Elders. Among his duties are maintaining communications with human organizations. So, as I am sure is now abundantly clear, he does not carry a particularly influential role within the council.

SPARKS: Oh c’mon, Croach. Humans ain’t that bad.

CROACH: This is where Barlok the Wise and I disagree.

SPARKS: I bet I can get you to change your mind about humans before the end of the migration.

CROACH: I do not “bet,” SparksNevada.

SPARKS: I'll have you beggin' me to come back and do a whole bunch of stuff for your tribe.

CROACH: I shall not.

SPARKS: Oh look, there’s where the oil fell into the pit.

CROACH: Where you created a pit that the oil consequently fell into.

SPARKS: Well… same thing, really.

CROACH: It is not.

SPARKS: Alright, so let’s start digging here. Let me just get out my robot fists again and-

CROACH: That is not necessary, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: What?

CROACH: I shall remove the rocks blocking our entrance to the cavern my tribe’s space oil fell into.

SPARKS: Yeah, that’s what you’re helping me do. Me. Yer… [heh] you ain’t doin' this alone, Croach. You are back here to kinda… you know… help me?

CROACH: I am aware what you desire, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Well, I ain’t gonna let you do all the work while I stand here and do nothing.

CROACH: No, SparksNevada, you are going to do exactly that. Your Earth organizations have driven us from our homes and forced this migration and then you came to further antagonize us. I am not interested in you being under the slightest impression that I am here to correct the failings of your failed task. I am merely doing what is required of me to do in order to let my tribe progress without enduring further hardships from you or robot outlaws or the MEC or anyone else. Were it not for the explicit instructions of Barlok the Wise, I would have sent you home by now. So, SparksNevada, sit down, allow me to exhume the lost space oil, allow me to return it to my tribe on my own, and do not for a moment believe that I am doing any of this to aid you.

SPARKS: …No.

CROACH: “No”? What you desire from me is irrelevant. Did any humans listen when we said “no,” SparksNevada? To this migration or any other or the wars or the extinc- [he interrupts himself] No they did not.

SPARKS: This is my mess, Croach. And I’m gonna clean it up.

CROACH: This entire planet has become your mess, SparksNevada. You have done enough.

SPARKS: Okay, I just got here.

CROACH: And look what you have done already.

SPARKS: C’mon, Croach. I ain’t gonna just let you do this by yourself. I want to help you and your tribe and-

CROACH: Hmph.

SPARKS: I do!

CROACH: You do not.

SPARKS: Honest, I do.

CROACH: Doubtful.

SPARKS: Look, how about this? I help you clean out the rocks, you can get the space oil out of there, and iffin’ there’s any robot outlaws still down there then I’ll take care of them. Does that sound fair?

CROACH: [mumble]

SPARKS: Does it?

CROACH: I suppose so.

SPARKS: Good. Let’s get started then. All this bickering does nothing to move the rocks.

CROACH: [grumble] Onus.

SPARKS: What was that?

CROACH: I said you are under onus to me, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: …I don’t know what that means.

CROACH: No, you wouldn’t know what that means, would you?

SPARKS: Are you always so angry with everything?

CROACH: [tuh] My race does not experience your human emotions.

SPARKS: Heh. Yeah.

CROACH: Was that your human sarcasm, SparksNevada?

SPARKS: Yeah, reckon it was. Reckon you totally feel emotions.

CROACH: I do not.

SPARKS: So you’re seriously like this all the time?

CROACH: Like what?

SPARKS: [sigh] You don’t get along with humans. I get it. I can understand that.

CROACH: I am certain you cannot.

SPARKS: No, I can. Really.

CROACH: With what your organization and the colonists have done to my tribe, I do not believe that you entirely understand why our relationship is strained. You would have seen no need to do all you have done after colonizing our home planet.

SPARKS: Settlin'.

CROACH: What?

SPARKS: We call it “settlin’” a planet. Y'know? Settlin'.

CROACH: Oh, is that what you designate it?

SPARKS: Reckon so.

CROACH: Then you do not understand, SparksNevada.

[pause]

SPARKS: I'd like you to tell me sometime.

CROACH: Tell you what, SparksNevada?

SPARKS: What happened to your tribe. I'm not completely oblivious.

CROACH: I disagree.

SPARKS: I mean I know that there’s a lot that never made it to our history books. And I… I think I'll be more of a help to your tribe iffin' I knew a few things.

CROACH: It would make little difference. My tribe will be far away from the colony from now on. And in several cycles we will be moved again – even farther.

SPARKS: Maybe you won’t have to.

CROACH: [hesitates] You should not imply such promises, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Just something to think about.

CROACH: I have found an entrance to the cavern. Allow me to go alone, SparksNevada, and I shall momentarily return with the lost quantities of space oil.

SPARKS: Hey, we agreed that you can bring the oil up, but I’m goin' down there and makin' sure there’s no robot outlaws that'll cause you any trouble.

CROACH: I can confront your metal enemies if it is required of me, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: No, Croach.

CROACH: I am more apt to engage with them than you are in your present state.

SPARKS: I still ain’t gonna let you do it, Croach.

CROACH: Is this in reference to your human emotion of “pride”?

SPARKS: No, I just reckon I wouldn’t be much of a Marshal iffin’ I put a civilian in danger.

CROACH: You need not worry about me.

SPARKS: Okay, but I ain’t necessarily “worried” about you.

CROACH: But you are concerned about me.

SPARKS: No, it’s that I trust those robots about as far as I can throw ‘em.

CROACH: Strange expression.

SPARKS: Point bein' I don’t think they'll not attack you just because you weren’t involved in putting them down there. I… c'mon, Croach. Let me into the cavern.

CROACH: Very well. But you are not to tell anyone from the Mars/Earth Coalition of what you observe down there.

SPARKS: [groan] Croach.

CROACH: I mean it, SparksNevada. This is of great importance to the security and well-being of my tribe.

SPARKS: Alright, alright. Fine. Just let me down there.

CROACH: Do I have your word, SparksNevada?

SPARKS: Yes! Yeah. I said yeah.

CROACH: Thank you.

SPARKS: Whoa. It’s really roomy down here. This cavern is way bigger than I thought. And this cavern floor is really flat. Like… really flat.

CROACH: My tribe resides in a series of underground caverns. Many of them, including this one, were abandoned after the war.

SPARKS: Are you saying that the robots could be anywhere?

CROACH: If your metal enemies are truly as large as you have described then there are many tunnels that would not have been accessible. They must be nearby.

SPARKS: And with your space-oil, I'll reckon.

CROACH: That is most likely, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Croach? Why are your antennae twitchin'?

CROACH: They approach.

SPARKS: Quick, Croach, get into this crack in the wall here. I'll get the jump on them and you just stay back.

CROACH: But SparksNevada-

SPARKS: Shh.

[BOLT, RATCHET, and WRENCH enter]

BOLT: I knew I shouldn’t have let you two talk me into this. Now we’re stuck.

RATCHET: I'm sure that marshal will be down here lookin' for us now.

WRENCH: Get a hold of it, you two. That no-good human marshal has got an uncharged laser pistol and some antique robot fists. He ain’t nothin' for us to be scared of. He's already done the worst he could do.

CROACH: SparksNevada, is it true that you do not possess a fully operational laser pistol?

SPARKS: It works fine except I forgot to charge it today.

CROACH: SparksNevada, an uncharged laser pistol possesses the same qualities as a fairly large rock.

SPARKS: Yeah, I know that. Shh.

RATCHET: Say, did you hear that?

BOLT: Was that the marshal? I don’t wanna get arrested.

WRENCH: Come out here and fight, Marshal. Let’s see you try to pull your dirty tricks this time.

BOLT: Let’s just find a way out of here.

RATCHET: She’s right, Wrench. All the space oil on the planet won’t do us any good iffin’ we’re trapped in this cave.

CROACH: SparksNevada, I can dispatch these metal enemies.

SPARKS: With that bow and arrow you got there? I don’t think so, pal.

CROACH: Do not designate me “pal”.

SPARKS: Besides, like I said before - you're a civilian.

CROACH: SparksNevada.

SPARKS: And I ain’t gonna let you get yourself in danger because of me. I still got my robot fists on me after all.

CROACH: SparksNevada, I-

SPARKS: Two of ‘em don’t even sound like they’d put up a fight, reckon.

WRENCH: But this one does, Marshal.

SPARKS: AAAH!

CROACH: Bagropa!

WRENCH: And lookit here. He's got a little Marjun friend this time.

BOLT: Wrench! Put them down!

RATCHET: Yeah, I don’t think you’re supposed to swing them around like that.

SPARKS: That’s it. You’re under arrest for grand theft and for assaulting an officer of the Mars/Earth Coalit- AAAH!

BOLT: Stop squeezin' him, Wrench!

WRENCH: Oh, fine. You’re no fun.

SPARKS: Ow.

CROACH: You should have let me fire upon them when I had the chance, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Are you really doing this right now?

WRENCH: But now that I caught 'em I gotta do something.

RATCHET: Trap them in one of the tiny rooms around here. It'll give us enough time to get out.

SPARKS: No. Do not do that.

BOLT: I like Ratchet's plan.

SPARKS: I don’t. Let’s put it to a vote. Croach?

CROACH: You are under so much onus to me, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Are you seriously blaming me for all this?

WRENCH: Fine. This chamber looks as good as any.

RATCHET: No! Don’t throw them!

WRENCH: I can and I will.

CROACH: Onus.

SPARKS: Don’t onus me! Onus her!

WRENCH: Looks like you two'll be sharin' a cell, Marshal.

RATCHET and BOLT: Wrench!

SPARKS and CROACH: [grunt with impact]

[Avalanche sound]

SPARKS: [groans]

WRENCH: [muffled] See how you like it, Marshal. Trapped behind a ton of rocks.

BOLT: [muffled] C'mon, you two. Let’s get outta here.

[they exit]

SPARKS: [pained moan] That hurt a lot. One of those rocks landed right on my hand too. I should have had my robot fists on. Ow. I think my pinky's broken. I mean it really hurts. How about you Croach, you okay?

[Pause]

SPARKS: Croach? Hey, Croach? Where are ya? Can you hear me? Cro- [gasp] Oh galaxy! Croach! Croach, can you hear me? You're mostly under a giant boulder but can you… oh god. Oh galaxy, it crushed you. It crushed you a lot. Let me get it off y- Ow! My hand. I can’t … Croach? Can you hear me? Croach! Oh this… this is not good. He ain’t movin'. He ain’t movin' at all. Croach, wake up. Please wake up. Galaxy, I… I just wanted to help you. Croach? Croach, iffin’ I knew this could have happened, I never would have… Oh Croach. Croach, I… I'm so sorry. And part of me really just hoped that you could… that you could see me as… as a… a…

CROACH: [pained groan]

SPARKS: Croach!

CROACH: As a what, SparksNevada?

SPARKS: Nope. Nevermind. You’re alive?

CROACH: More than alive, SparksNevada, I am sound. [Strained groan] I am, however, stuck.

SPARKS: That thing looks like it’s crushed your spine. How are you alright?

CROACH: So are the powers of the almighty Nah Notek. Praise be.

SPARKS: What’s that?

CROACH: What is what?

SPARKS: That thing you just said. Nah-Something. What is that? One of your heathen Martian gods? 

CROACH: No!

SPARKS: Then what is it?

CROACH: It is the sacred light within all.

SPARKS: Okay, so… I’m halfway right.

CROACH: No.

SPARKS: Well…

CROACH: SparksNevada, I am still pinned to the ground by this megalith. If I am unable to move from this spot, I will perish.

SPARKS: Oh, right. I was having a bit of trouble with that because a bit of rock broke one of my fingers.

CROACH: That must be very difficult for you.

SPARKS: Alright, you want to sass or do you want me to help? Reckon iffin’ I activate my robot fists then it'll give it the brace it needs. Liftin' it’s a mite tricky. How about I just smash it?

CROACH: Do whatever you need to do to free me from this vice.

SPARKS: Alright. Robot fists.

[activation sound]

[rock crushing sound]

SPARKS: I- oh! Oh, Croach. What [dry heave] what is left of you under there… that is gross.

CROACH: I am not “gross”, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: So gross.

CROACH: The anatomy of my people is beautiful and sacred. Observe as the great Nah Notek makes me whole once more.

SPARKS: I don’ wanna.

[Nah Notek sounds begin]

SPARKS: [another dry heave] Gross!

CROACH: Praise Nah Notek.

SPARKS: I ain’t watchin'.

CROACH: SparksNevada, while I heal I believe we should begin planning our escape from this abandoned sanctum.

SPARKS: Reckon we can dig our way out of this cave-in same way we dug ourselves into the first. You know the way out of the caverns though?

CROACH: I believe I can find the correct route out. Although I have never visited this system specifically I am sure I am able to deduce its layout.

SPARKS: I got a question.

CROACH: What is it?

SPARKS: Iffin’ you got yer fancy nanotech thing-

CROACH: Nah Notek.

SPARKS: Whatever. Iffin’ you got that, then why do you have a bandage on your arm?

CROACH: What?

SPARKS: There’s a bandage on your right bicep-y area. Why would you have it iffin’ you can heal from anything? Is it just aesthetic or somethin’?

CROACH: …Sure, SparksNevada.

[Pause as Nah Notek sounds continue]

SPARKS: C-can I turn back around now.

CROACH: Almost. The process is nearly complete.

[Nah Notek sounds end]

CROACH: I am fully healed, SparksNevada; as I am sure you are as well with your laughably minor injuries.

SPARKS: No. Bones don’t heal themselves in two minutes, Croach.

CROACH: Truly? Sad.

SPARKS: Yeah, but I'm sure I can still pick up the rocks I need to with th- Ow! I think that punching the rock you were under made it worse.

CROACH: Let me see it.

SPARKS: Ow. It’s pretty swollen. I might not be able to get the robot fists back on after I take them off.

CROACH: Take them off.

SPARKS: I don’t know…

CROACH: The only way your metal enemies can escape he chamber is through the way they came in. We will hear them if they do and from what I have sensed they have not yet figured this out. So let me observe your injury. Please, SparksNevada.

[Robot fist sounds]

CROACH: I shall now preform a short examination. Does this cause you pain?

SPARKS: Ow! Yes!

CROACH: Shh. It will be alright, SparksNevada.

[Scary metal unsheathing sound]

SPARKS: AAAAH! Don’t cut it off!

CROACH: I am not going to cut it off! But we should splint this appendage before more damage is done. I… I can part with an arrow for the support, but I will require some fabric from your clothing for the wrap. Hand me your bow tie.

SPARKS: Not my bow tie!

CROACH: You are a very picky human, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Take a bit from my shirt, please. I happen to really like this bow tie.

CROACH: Fine.

[Fabric sheering sounds]

CROACH: There. You should be fine now.

SPARKS: [heh]

CROACH: What? Did I unknowingly utilize some of your Earth humor?

SPARKS: No. It’s just that… the whole boulder crushing you nearly in two situation… it didn’t even leave a scar on you, Croach.

CROACH: Such is the nature of Nah Notek.

SPARKS: I reckon so.

CROACH: I… you should consider partaking in the rites of Nah Notek.

SPARKS: Thanks, but I think I'll pass.

CROACH: Truly?

SPARKS: Yeah.

CROACH: But it would cure you of your asthma.

SPARKS: Okay, I don’t have asthma.

CROACH: Are you positive you do not, SparksNevada?

SPARKS: Let’s just get out of there.

[transition to the robots]

BOLT: What if we can’t get out but the Marshal can?

RATCHET: Worse comes ta’ worse we’ll get you out of here, Bolt. We promise. Right, Wrench?

WRENCH: You should’ve let me squish them when I had the chance, then you wouldn’t be worrying about them now.

BOLT: No! I changed my mind, I don’t wanna take the space-oil!

WRENCH: What?!

RATCHET: Bolt, we will get out of here. Okay? And we may not take all the space-oil, but I’m takin’ some. Or else this entire adventure would have been for nothing.

BOLT: Okay.

WRENCH: I think we should leave her down here.

BOLT: No!

RATCHET: Wrench, stop picking on her. Bolt, give me a boost and I might be able to open up the ceiling.

BOLT: Let me do it.

WRENCH: You ain’t strong enough to break up rocks.

BOLT: I’m not gonna let you leave me down here forever!

RATCHET: Hey, hey… I’m not leaving you. Wrench, get to digging. I’ll get the space-oil. Bolt, you stand guard.

BOLT: Okay.

WRENCH: Fine by me.

SPARKS: None of you are goin’ anywhere.

[robot fist and techno bow activation sounds]

SPARKS: Reach for space, fellas. We’re bringin’ you in.

BOLT: Don’t shoot me, marjun!

RATCHET: Just let us out and we’ll come along.

WRENCH: What’s gotten into you two? We’re bigger than both of them put together and then some. They can’t make us go nowhere.

SPARKS: I’m takin’ you in first. Croach, dispatch this robot.

CROACH: Of course, Sparks Nevada.

BOLT: No!

RATCHET: Don’t shoot her!

BOLT: Iffin’ you wanna hurt Wrench then you gotta go through me first.

RATCHET: And me.

WRENCH: Three on two, Marshal. Well… three on one and a half.

BOLT: Prepare defensive weapons system alpha.

[whirrs]

RATCHET: Whoa, I didn’t know I could do that.

WRENCH: You’re out-gunned, Marshal.

SPARKS: Well… Croach… this is it, isn’t it?

CROACH: It does seem likely we shall perish, SparksNevada. It is a shame. I wanted to see how you would function as marshal.

SPARKS: Thanks.

BOLT: Deploying in 5… 4...

CROACH: I can still fire, SparksNevada.

BOLT: 3… 2…

SPARKS: We’d still be out-gunned.

BOLT: 1… fire!

[pause]

BOLT: Umm… Fire! Activate! Uhh…

WRENCH: Bolt you dummy, I… I… I can’t move!

RATCHET: Neither can I!

BOLT: Me neither! Help! Help us!

SPARKS: Uh… no?

TECHNOLOGY BEING: Where in the name of technology have you been?

SPARKS: What? Who said that?

CROACH: An outworlder. Specifically, one of the Technology Beings from Rigel IV. There are few on this planet, most living in isolation.

TECHNOLOGY BEING: So that’s where you three wandered off to.

[TECHNOLOGY BEING enters]

SPARKS: Aww.

CROACH: They are adorably diminutive.

TECHNOLOGY BEING: Bolt. Wrench. Ratchet. You scared me half to death just running off like that. Have you been causing this lawman and his Martian any trouble?

SPARKS: Yes.

TECHNOLOGY BEING: Looks like I turned your suits off just in time. Shame on you! Wrench, I am hardly surprised, but Bolt and Ratchet, I’m very very disappointed in you for utilizing technology in this way. And we raised all of you better than to be running around the desert in those things. Come on out. Come out right now.

[heavy gears turning and locking into place]

WRENCH: [emerging] It was Bolt’s idea.

BOLT: [cries]

RATCHET: You kept making everything worse, Wrench! You didn’t know when to stop!

TECHNOLOGY BEING: All of you are grounded. No more mech suits for any of you.

BOLT: But, Mom!

TECHNOLOGY BEING: You can wear it home, Bolt, but after that you’ll only utilize the technology of your wheelchair, young lady. Now all of you use the technology of language to apologize to this lawman and his Martian.

BOLT and RATCHET: Sorry, Marshal and Martian.

WRENCH: [mumbles]

SPARKS: What was that, Wrench?

WRENCH: Sorry! Okay? Gosh.

SPARKS: Good enough for me.

CROACH: I doubt the sincerity of this Technology Being youngling, SparksNevada.

TECHNOLOGY BEING: Now get out of this cavern and think about what you did. All of you, now. Shoo.

[BOLT, RATCHET, and WRENCH all exit, expressing varying degrees of remorse and frustration]

TECHNOLOGY BEING: I am truly sorry on behalf of what my children put you two through. They should have had the technology to have known better. You seem like a nice pair.

CROACH: Actually-

TECHNOLOGY BEING: Please take these two mech suits as a symbol of my remorse. It is the gift of technology! I’m sure you’ll be able to find some use for them at the marshal’s station or for the migration. If you need any more battle suits, here’s my card. For now I have some very naughty children to walk home. So long, Marshal. Martian.

[TECHNOLOGY BEING exits]

CROACH: You were robbed by children, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: I didn’t know they were children!

CROACH: By three younglings.

SPARKS: You thought they were robots too, Croach! Giant robots!

CROACH: The girls possessed braids.

SPARKS: Get in yer dang mech suit and help me get all this oil out of here.

CROACH: One of them was in a wheelchair.

SPARKS: Not a word of this to the other Martians.

CROACH: They are getting every word of how you were held up by a group of younglings.

SPARKS: Just move the oil like you wanted, Croach.

[whirring and heavy dragging sounds]

SPARKS: Finally! We’re out.

CROACH: Bagropa! Barlok the Wise! What are you doing here?

BARLOK THE WISE: Croach the Tracker? Is that you?

[heavy gears turning and locking into place]

CROACH: I am here, Barlok the Wise. With the oil SparksNevada and I have promised.

BARLOK THE WISE: SparksNevada? Are you in there?

[heavy gears turning and locking into place]

SPARKS: Yeah, it’s me. And I got these mech suits for you. Reckon you’ll find them useful for the migration.

BARLOK THE WISE: All our space-oil returned and these generous gifts that will aid us greatly? This is a fortunate turn of events. Croach the Tracker, is there anything that you desire to tell me regarding what occurred in the cavern?

CROACH: Yes there is, Barlok the Wise.

SPARKS: No there ain’t!

CROACH: SparksNevada… saved my life.

BARLOK THE WISE: Bagropa. SparksNevada, Croach the Tracker and myself are under onus to you.

SPARKS: T-thank you, Barlok the Wise.

CROACH: And observe, Barlok the Wise. He has sustained an injury.

SPARKS: Oh, c’mon. You guys…

BARLOK THE WISE: He did sustain an injury. To his skeletal structure at that.

SPARKS: I mean, it’s just a broken pinky finger. It ain’t terminal.

BARLOK THE WISE: With what we have seen of humans these past few decades, it is easy to forget that humans are fragile. That they are capable of selflessness and chivalry. Your actions bring great promise, SparksNevada. Perhaps your generation will see the end of the bigotry that drove our races apart.

SPARKS: I… I’ll do everything I can to make that happen, Barlok the Wise.

CROACH: As will I.

BARLOK: I know, Croach the Tracker. If only your father were alive to see who you have become. I know he would be honored to call you his son.

CROACH: I am under onus to you for your kind words, Barlok the Wise.

BARLOK THE WISE: SparksNevada?

SPARKS: Yeah?

BARLOK THE WISE: Our tribe is under onus to you for the retrieval of the space oil and for your gifts. If only I would be able to commemorate our gratitude to you to the extent that I desire… alas, I cannot. So, with your permission, SparksNevada, I desire to utilize the extent of my powers in the tribe and council of elders and grant you a secondary signifier. Is that something you would desire, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: I…

CROACH: Say “yes.” SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Yes.

CROACH: Kneel.

SPARKS: What?

CROACH: Kneel. For the ceremony, you have to kneel.

SPARKS: Oh, right.

BARLOK THE WISE: SparksNevada, for the completion of this trial and your services to the tribe, I grant you your secondary signifier. Your new life will soon begin. You have a duty to the tribe and this planet – to fulfill the actions your signifier implies. It is yours and yours alone and you are to cherish it as you fufill your onuses. Are you prepared to accept this responsibility? If so say “I am.”

SPARKS: I am.

BARLOK THE WISE: By the power invested in me by the council of elders and my lifelong onus to my tribe, I grant you your secondary signifier. Arise, Sparks the Human.

SPARKS: [beside himself] “Sparks the Human”? Really?

BARLOK THE WISE: Correct.

SPARKS: Thank you, Barlok the Wise.

CROACH: That was not a positive designation, SparksNevada.

BARLOK THE WISE: Croach.

SPARKS: Yes it was. It totally was. Go humans.

CROACH: Ugh.

BARLOK THE WISE: Although our tribe is no longer near the human colony, it would benefit us if we could see more of you, Sparks the Human.

SPARKS: Well, I ain’t got the title “Marshal of the Mars Settlement.” Reckon I'm “Marshal on Mars,” and that includes lookin' after your tribe and any others as best I can.

CROACH: G’loot Praktaw.

SPARKS: What?

CROACH: This planet is designated G’loot Praktaw.

SPARKS: …Mars.

CROACH: Which you designate “Mars”.

SPARKS: Everyone I know calls it Mars.

CROACH: That is not the planet’s designation.

BARLOK THE WISE: We shall have two of our tribesmen utilize the mech suits to carry the space-oil, Sparks the Human. With them we will be able to complete the migration without the services you offered. Besides, it would be best if you returned to the colony and had your wound examined by a medical professional.

SPARKS: Oh, you guys are goin’ or…?

BARLOK THE WISE: Correct, Sparks the Human. Croach the Tracker, bid farewell to the human marshal and come migrate by my side. We have much to discuss.

CROACH: Oh. Um… farewell, SparksNevada.

SPARKS: Thanks, Croach. Uh… I’ll see you around?

CROACH: …I am not sure. It is certainly possible.

SPARKS: Yeah. I… I reckon it is.

NARRATOR: Is this the end of Sparks Nevada?  Will he and the Martian Croach ever meet again, or is our hero once again left to tame this red planet by his lonesome? Who else will he find out in the empty vastness of his new home? Find out next week on the next adventure of Sparks Nevada: Marshal on Mars!


End file.
